It was his fourth birthday. As far as numbers went he officially was a toddler today. But by human standards, he was quite the grown-up. He might not be the smartest one around, or the most experienced but he lived, he breathed.

Nothing was the same as it was four years ago. Then, he had just started taking baby steps that had quickly transformed into bolder steps till he could choose to run or walk as he wished. He would speak his mind, no matter who listened and who didn’t. He made friends, some fleeting, some everlasting. But the scenario kept changing bit by bit over time. Four years is not a long time, yet it was enough time that nothing would be the same as the beginning.

Today he sits back and wants to be able to speak again. His fingers itches and his stomach growls with all the unspoken words suppressed, struggling to escape out into the world. But for the means. The means for him to escape into the world, to weave stories, to speak aloud is busy elsewhere, wrapped in a triviality called life, enamored and trussed by time- forgetting that few of the best things that had happened to her, was him or because of him. She didn’t even remember it was his birthday today…

She did realize he was growing old, and not of age, but of stagnancy. The mind was still there, so were the stories, and so were the tools, only she never came to join them.

But at the end of the day, when even the last hour had passed in his country of birth, she brought a candle, a sliver of shining. She might not remember his birthday, neglect him, trap his words in but she’d never forget him. You cannot forget the one you have birthed.

Happy fourth, Maverick Misfit! I might slow down, even disappear from time to time but I will never let you die…

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About Guria

An Artist in Science - I am a Misfit 'cause I choose to be one. "Whenever you find that you are on the side of the majority, it is time to reform" And I am a Maverick, because, I'm... umm... brilliant?